Collision
by butterfly101488
Summary: Two Harrys sharing one body. Is it dissociative identity disorder or something else? Paring: Harry & Severus


Chapter 1

A/N: The words are in red when canon Harry is speaking (in his mind) and the words are blue when the other Harry speaks. I hope that made sense. Let me know what you guys think of this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe.

One moment I'm sitting at the kitchen table with my wife Ginny and our three kids, and the next I'm standing in a room I swear I've never been in. Although, everything in the room, from the poster of The Hopping Toads, a wizard band, to the clothes littering the floor, is familiar. I feel a strong sense of Deja Vu. What's even weirder is that I seem to have a whole new set of memories to go with my old ones. In the back of my mind I feel another consciousness. I turn my attention inward, and see a 15 year old Harry hugging his knees, crying. Have I developed dissociative identity disorder? If that's true…have I been living two entirely separate lives? But, my new memories tell me that my parents are still alive, and that they raised me. I was sorted into Gryffindor. I've never had to face Voldemort because he died that night in Godric's Hollow. The memories that I _thought_ were mine, up until now, are what they've always been: my parents died, I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle, sorted into Gryffindor, and defeated Voldemort when I was 17. There doesn't seem to be any sort of time loss in either set of memories. I try to coax the other Harry to talk, see if he can shed any light on this situation. Harry? Are you ok? Can you tell me what's going on? I try to speak as soothingly as possible. The other Harry doesn't react. I'm about to change tack when the door to the room I'm in opens and the other Harry fades farther back into our head. Deciding to deal with him later, I turn my focus back to the outside world.

"Harry, are you ok?" My- his- our mother, whichever, pokes her head in. I gather by the way the other Harry is acting that something horrible has happened, but I can't seem to access that memory. Apparently, it's too traumatic for him. Despite my confusion and worry about this situation, I'm able to give our mum a genuine smile. She's even more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed. Tears well up in my eyes, which mum mistakes for sadness, but I'm overjoyed to get this opportunity to see her, no matter how strange it is. The corners of her mouth turn down and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears as she embraces me in the gentlest of hugs.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could protect you from every little hurt in this world." I wrap my arms around her, and revel in the scent of cinnamon and vanilla. We hold each other and cry. As we dry our tears, mum says, "How about I make us some hot chocolate?"

"That would be great." We were sipping our hot chocolate and chatting, when the front door opens, letting in a gust of cold air. Our dad, Sirius, Remus, and Snape come through the door.

"We talked to Dumbledore, Harry. The kid who did this has been expelled," said our dad. Snape bent down on one knee in front of us and said, "If something like this ever happens again I want you to throw every spell you know at the perpetrator and then come directly to my office. No matter the hour. Understand?" I nod my head yes. The other Harry, who I will call James from now on, stirs at the sound of Snape's voice, making our heart beat a little faster and our stomach do excited flips. Memories float to the surface of our mind, telling me that Snape is a family friend in this reality and that James is infatuated with him. I figure I should attempt to act as much like James as I can, so I say, "Thanks, Sev." Snape smiles at us and ruffles our hair. James' feelings for him make us blush. I try to hide my next thought: He doesn't think of you as anything but a child. But I fail. James makes a sobbing noise and retreats back to his little corner. I'm unable to stop the grief he feels from showing on our face. Everyone in the room panics and rushes to our aid.

"I'm okay, I'd just like some time to myself," I say, inching my way out of the room. All the attention is making me claustrophobic. Back in our room, I sit on the bed and try to collect myself. It's too much. I need some time to process all of this. I take a deep breath. Ok, let's try to think about this logically. The first thing I should attempt to figure out is am I suffering from dissociative identity disorder? Is it even possible to diagnose yourself? What are the symptoms of this disorder? Let's see. Memory loss — seeing as I am completely confused as to what's going on I would say I can check that one off the list. Mental health problems — aside from the occasional sharing of Voldemort's mind and body, I never considered myself as having mental health problems. James on the other hand, seems to be horribly depressed at the moment. So, I guess I'll have to check that one too. A sense of being detached from yourself — hmm… not that I know of. Perceiving people and things as unreal and distorted — nope. A blurred sense of identity — I suppose I have felt that on occasion. With this disorder people might feel the presence of other people talking or living inside their head — definite yes. Is it even possible to have one body living two lives as different as the ones James and I have? I'll do more research when I get to school. I guess I'll try to see if I can help James. I turn my attention inward again and try talking to him. James? Can you hear me? I'm here now; everything's going to be ok. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I have no idea how Snape sees you. To my surprise, James looks up at me. But you're right. I don't know how I could have been so stupid. To think that Sev would ever see me as anything more than the son of his best friends. I'm such a weak, coward. Some kid played a stupid prank on me and it broke me. Whereas you've lived through much worse. You _killed_ You Know Who. Why are you so much stronger than me? My heart broke at the sorrow in his voice. I could feel his pain, rolling through our body in great waves. He was such a delicate person compared to me. You should never feel stupid for loving someone. And from what I can tell that prank was a pretty bad one. Don't be so hard on yourself. What happened exactly? I don't remember. What do I do? His sense of despair threatened to overwhelm me. Don't worry, James, we're going to get through this together. Really? You'll help me? Of course.


End file.
